You would not believe the shocking shenanigans that took place in this house last night.
Personally, I’m appalled. But I’m getting ahead of myself! Mom invited a friend over to discuss “some business”. Right before the friend came over, she tossed me in the crate. “OK,” I thought. “I won’t be in here too long.” Soon Mom’s friend arrived and I wanted to get out of the crate really bad and give my usual enthusiastic greeting. The friend’s name was Matt, and Matt was dressed very nicely and smelled like a good human and had a nice voice. But Mom didn’t let me out.
Matt had some strange boxes with him and a bag. I watched from my crate as he put the bag down on the little table and began unpacking the boxes. My enthusiastic happiness turned to cold-blooded horror when I realized Matt was assembling a vacuum cleaner!
Dear God, a vacuum cleaner salesperson in my house! And I am trapped in the crate!
(the instrument of torture!)
Soon the demonstration was underway. The vacuum, called “Kirby”, was turned on and off and on and off as Matt whipped little filter screens in and out of the machine. Soon I began to pant. Mom kept telling me, “easy” and “good girl”, until Matt piled some scented foam on the area rug directly in front of me. THEN I began to gnaw at the sides of my crate until Mom thought I was going to hurt my teeth.
So, Mom got the chain leash out, and put on my training collar, and made me “sit” while Matt cleaned. The floor. The rug. The ceiling. Upstairs to Dad’s pillow. The mattress. Then the doorbell rang and Adam came in. Adam is Matt’s boss. He gave me lots of petting and told Mom his girlfriend has a Bulldog. I was very, very nervous. The whole time, the vacuum kept running and running. I was starting to sweat out my paws. I could not believe these shenanigans! I barked at Kirby a couple of times, but I didn’t charge him like I have charged Vacuum Cleaner. Mom said I was a good girl. Kirby was so shiny! And he was everywhere.
Needless to say, Mom LOVED Kirby. She thought Matt did a really fantastic job with the demonstration. Mom wanted to buy Kirby, but Dad stepped in and said, “NO.” Thank goodness for Dad. I guess guys don’t want a really clean house. Maybe it smells better to humans to sleep on a dirty pillow, but I don’t know, since I don’t use one.
All I know is that Kirby is gone and peace is restored to the house.
Shenanigans! Woof! Love, Maggie